


in this house

by fogsrollingin



Series: Sam Whumpchester 🎃 Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Affectionate Dean Winchester, Branding, Cages, Collars, Comforting Dean Winchester, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desperate Dean Winchester, Feral Behavior, Feral Sam Winchester, Gen, Hugs, Humiliation, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Nudity, Physical Abuse, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Slavery, Torture, Vampires, implied violence nothing explicit, magical healing, noncon nudity, sounds dark but this fic is 90 percent comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsrollingin/pseuds/fogsrollingin
Summary: Dean slid to his knees in front of the low, long rusted steel wire cage that held his little brother, naked and collared and huddled into its darkest recess.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Sam Whumpchester 🎃 Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947565
Comments: 40
Kudos: 151
Collections: Sam Winchester WHUMP, Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my second entry for Whumptober 2020! Ch 1 prompts filled are no 2. “collars” and no. 4 “caged” 🥺️
> 
> [Link to this chapter on tumblr.](https://fogsrollingin.tumblr.com/post/630869976023187456)
> 
> [Link to this story on ffnet](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13717812)

Dean slid to his knees in front of the low, long rusted steel wire cage that held his little brother, naked and collared and huddled into its darkest recess.

“Fuck, Sammy.” He slipped his fingers through the mesh in the door and tore at the metal. It rattled and shook but wouldn’t give. Sam cried, his heels scrambling to press himself further into the corner.

“Sammy it’s me, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean babbled quietly, finding the lock to his right and getting his lockpick set out from his pocket. His hands were shaking, his breath shallow, the sight of his brother spiking his adrenaline. Lockpicking was precise work that required a steady hand and mind. This wasn’t going to be easy. Dean closed his eyes, pretended his brother wasn’t cowering in fear and trauma, and breathed. He worked on it, flinching every now and then at the sound of breaking furniture just overhead. The attack on the vamp nest upstairs was still going. Dean had bypassed the violence to get down here because he’d known. Reality was different but he’d known where to go and what to expect when it was time to rescue Sam.

There had been two survivors: best friends Siobhan and Cara in high school had been abducted together two weeks ago. Townsfolk were worried but thought perhaps they’d decided to run away together; the search wasn’t as intense as it could’ve been. They escaped a week later by the skin of their teeth. Siobhan had seen and memorized the code on her collar before it was put back into place around her neck where she couldn’t see it. She’d gotten out, stayed to free Cara, and the two were found naked and traumatized, feet torn to shreds after running through the woods, holding hands and walking down the middle of the road towards town.

Dean had interviewed them at the hospital where they’d been moved to the psych ward after a couple days’ recovery. Sam was right beside him then, warm and compassionate but powerful, self-assured. When they’d left, Sam had told him they’d better destroy every last one of the vampires in that nest. Normally Dean would’ve slapped a smile on his face and reply “that’s the plan, Sammy” but what they’d heard wasn’t easy to get over, not even for Dean. It was unspeakable.

So instead Dean had nodded with a heavy heart to match Sam’s, said he needed a drink.

Later, Sam had felt like Mexican, said he’d run get tacos.

It was three days before Dean could pinpoint their location. Dean called everyone he knew for even just the slightest scrap of intel they might’ve had. So, other hunters heard about it. They learned the case: the sadistic scum that thrived in this particular nest, and drove in to lend a hand when it was time to move in.

Dean hadn’t realized how grateful he’d be about that until he was ducking down into the basement faster than he ever could’ve without the distraction of a half dozen other hunters tearing through the sprawling backwoods property above them. He vaguely recalled the Benders, and regretted his disdain for regular humans. This was so much worse.

The lock clicked open. Dean stared at it and realized the hardest part was yet to come. Carefully, he set the lock down and opened the gate. The bottom raked across the gritty floor and Sam shook and curled up further, muffled whimpers as he covered his ears and then head as though the world was about to come crashing down.

Tears sprang to Dean’s eyes. He bit his lip and reached out. “Sam,” Dean breathed. “Come on, come here. It’s okay. You can come to me,” he beckoned.

When Sam didn’t move, Dean crawled halfway into the cage. “Sammy?” He pressed his palm to Sam’s shoulder. Sam yelped and shuddered, scrambled to evade the touch. “Sammy, it’s me. It’s Dean.” Dean set his other hand on his brother’s knee. Sam locked it tighter up against his body, noises of desperate fear and pain as he crammed himself against the steel mesh of his cage.

Dean swore and realized he’d have to get all the way in. “Sam it’s me, it’s Dean, I’m gonna get ya, c’mon,” he promised, crawling in and coming to face his brother. Sam’s head was down, coiled tight and Dean couldn’t believe his brother could make himself look so small. He remembered back to the hospital, his brother standing straight, the most fascinating mix of biting intelligence and soft empathy…

Dean rubbed his face and tears came away. Frustrated, he decided to take a risk. “Okay c’mon, Sammy, we can do this,” he said as he quickly hauled Sam in, pulling the kid against him and wrapping his arms around him. Sam screamed, feral, a sound Dean had never heard from his brother. He cringed and held his brother tighter. “It’s okay! It’s okay, Sammy, I got you, it’s just me,” he tried to drown out the sounds of pure terror emanating from the man in his arms. Sam bucked and writhed but Dean held on. Closed his eyes and clung and tried not to gag with the urine and mold and whatever gore wafting off Sammy’s bare skin and matting Sam’s hair where Dean was touching it, petting the oily strands, keeping them out of Sam’s face as the kid writhed in distress throes, wept and raged against his brother’s arms like their own bands of steel strapping them together.

“Hold on, just hold on, Sammy. You’re gonna figure it out. It’s gonna come to you. I’m right here. Big brother’s right here, baby.” Tears slid down his face as he rocked his brother’s naked, beaten shape even as it fought in wild terror against him. Everything was infected in this house, everything rotted and fetid and wretched.

An eternal minute and Sam finally went limp, heaving breaths, gagging against Dean’s chest drifting into quiet, exhausted hiccupped sobs. The adrenaline crash was coming. Dean hefted Sam’s warmed, heavy body higher, spread his arms across broad shoulders. Sam was alive. Dean had him in his arms. He was safe.

The relief spread through him, made him hug his little brother extra before making it so Sam’s head could rest on his shoulder.

Dean ignored the smooth round metal collar around Sam’s neck and turned into Sam’s ear to whisper. “Sammy, it’s Dean. I’m right here. I got you. You’re safe,” he repeated for the thousandth time but with no less emotion than the first.

Sam shivered and whimpered, pulled his hands up and held them together tight over the center of his chest, a thing he did as a kid to soothe himself, Dean remembered. The older brother let him be, kept whispering reassurances as he took stock of the collar.

He prodded it. Sam gasped in fear. Dean went back to hugging him and murmuring reassurances. They repeated that ritual a few times before Dean found the code and entered it in to unlock.

Dean pried it off Sam and let it clatter to the cement floor. Turning back, he pressed a palm to Sam’s neck then head, looking into his eyes for any recognition. It was dark though, and Sam didn’t make a move. Dean sighed and gathered Sam up again. “C’mon Sammy, come back to me,” Dean pleaded, hugging him closer.

Sam froze. 

Dean stopped talking and pulled back again. Sam was squinting at the floor, his brows furrowed in deep concentration, even pain.

“Sammy?”

Sam swallowed and looked up. “D-Dean?” he rasped.

“Yes! Sammy, oh my god,” and Sam gasped at the rough treatment as Dean dragged him back into his lap, into his chest where he was safe, protected, where Dean could cover him. “Sam, Sam, god… I’m so sorry,” Dean’s voice broke on his apology. “I got you now, though. I got you,” he sobbed, starting to rock them. Sam melted against him, hugging back, crying quiet tears and muttering Dean’s name like a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments bring me to life so if you could spare the time even just a happy emoji comment would be the BEST 😄
> 
> xoxo, Alex


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting _out_ of this house.
> 
> This is my next entry for Whumptober2020. Prompts filled are no. 14 "brand," no. 15 "magical healing," and no.31 "torture." 😧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all my amazing readers on both AO3 and FFN who let me know they wanted more of this story (when I’d only planned it to be a very intense one-shot), here we gooooo! 😆
> 
> [Tumblr link to this chapter](https://fogsrollingin.tumblr.com/post/632078927506128896/title-in-this-house-ch-2-author-fogsrollingin)
> 
> [Link to this story on Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13717812/1/in-this-house)

Furniture crashed overhead, Dean's team of hunters fighting, feet pounding over the floorboards, the sounds of screaming, hissing vampires. Sometimes their sounds would stop abruptly, then a heavy thunk to indicate their decapitated melons had just hit the floor and it was like music to Dean's ears. Macabre as it may be, it was a dream come true right now as he huddled in this cage with his brother shaking and clinging to him out of his mind with fear.

Sam had cleared up enough to say his name though. That was a start. Dean thought about their next moves. Or tried to. He blinked his eyes, shook his head, summoning the wherewithal to get brain's gears back online.

Damn it, _you planned for this!_ Dean scolded himself. The harder he focused, the stronger this rushing feeling bubbled out overwhelming him, filling his senses up with cotton and getting him too jittery to think straight.

"Fuck," Dean muttered, hauling his shivering, traumatized little brother up against him closer. Sam went with it. Dean ducked his own head into his brother's disgusting hair. They were wasting time. He kept telling himself that to spur himself into action but... there were so many things, so many ways Dean could help Sam and as he ran down the mental list of them he just didn't know which came first.

Dean didn't know how long they stayed like that hugging each other in the cage like they weren't free, like Dean had simply joined his brother enslaved inside. It felt like a purgatory Dean could live with. After everything they'd been through, to just be together even in that cage was enough.

"Hey, okay guys," a low voice smoothed over them. Sam didn't react but Dean recognized Mallory's voice. She was a medic turned hunter that'd arrived last week with her friend, Gerald. She hovered over the cage's door.

She moved and Dean couldn't see, her dark brown skin and black outfit perfect camouflage. "Don't!" Dean begged. Sam scuttled closer. Dean didn't know what he was begging for. Don't come into the cage? Don't shatter this moment? Don't you touch him?

Thundering steps of so many people erupted behind her. Sam yelped and Dean grunted, clutching Sam back.

"Stop!" Mallory ordered and the feet coming down the stairs did as they were told. Dean heard some jubilance in their tones, wanting to clear the basement of these blood suckers and high five Dean. Instead Mallory's voice rang out crystal clear. "Go clear the rest of the house. Burn the bodies out back. I want Gerald down here though. Gerald?"

"Yeah, here," a man replied softly, an easy gait stepping down the stairs past the others who'd started making their way back up. He appeared next to Mallory and crouched down with her to talk. His skin was a little lighter than hers' so Dean could make him out in the dark better. He was biting his nails looking at them, brows furrowed with worry.

"I'd like you to stay down here. Make sure no one's in the other cages."

"You got it," he murmured softly. He got up slowly in deference, it seemed, and moved away.

"All right. Dean?" Mallory asked.

"Y-yeah," Dean gruffed from the human ball they'd made, the two of them curled around each other so tight now. Dean didn't want it to end but somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminding himself that Mallory and Gerald were the best, his favorites. He couldn't remember exactly why. His brain was fried right now but he responded to her voice.

Something slid into the cage out of the corner of his eye, Mallory pushing his backpack inside within reach of him. The first aid kit was in there, a water bottle, some of Sam's clothes, hot chemical packs, an emergency blanket. Dean had packed everything he could think of.

"Do you want me to come in?" Mallory asked evenly.

Dean stared at the backpack and shook his head.

"Can I walk you through this?"

Dean's face screwed up and he let out a sob. He nodded though.

"Okay Dean, it's okay. You're doing great. You've got your brother. He's safe now. You're gonna take care of him. You two will be home eating takeout at a shitty motel in no time," she lied with so much charm and Dean was nodding in agreement, engaged, growing more and more aware.

"Now what you gotta do first is lay Sam down and examine him, Dean. You gotta know how hurt he is. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, come on Dean, you gotta see."

Dean nodded to Mallory, his face still buried in Sam's hair. "Okay, okay Sammy, you ready?"

Sam shuddered but let Dean gently pry him free until he was sitting. Dean wasn't going to make him lie down.

"Sam, where does it hurt?" Dean asked stiffly. Mallory waited behind him patiently and he felt better she wasn't pressuring him. Dean might have had a minor freakout just now but he still had the last say on how to handle his brother. 

Sam shivered and shook. "It doesn't."

"What?"

"Hungry."

Dean heard Mallory scrambling at the backpack, the sound of little pretzel bags crinkling before one landed next to Sam's feet. Sam grabbed it and tore into it.

A rolling sound and Dean turned to see Mallory had pushed the water bottle to tumble its way to them. Dean grabbed it and put it within Sam's reach.

"Sam... can I take a look at you?" Dean asked hesitantly as Sam wolfed down the last of the pretzels. Mallory threw another one and without acknowledging her Sam pounced on the second helping.

"They'd heal me. After the torture. Magic." He spoke quietly between crumbly breaths. "Except here." He twisted and lifted his leg to show his right thigh.

Dean tilted his head to see, Mallory squinted and leaned forward.

Dean swore. Mallory gasped.

"Sammy what the fuck is that?"

"It's a brand," Sam replied wetly.

Gerald came back just then, his steps silent and graceful. "Nobody."

Mallory took Gerald's hand and squeezed. "Could you tell the others to go? These two-"

"I understand. I'll tell 'em," Gerald whispered. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything." He squeezed her hand back and made his way.

Dean turned back to his brother. "Sammy, can I-?" he asked as he moved in to look at the wound again. Sam nodded and leaned against the cage wall for balance as Dean lifted his right knee up to see again. If Sam was embarrassed by Dean's proximity to his twig and berries he didn't show it. He'd slowed his snacking, interspersing pretzel bites with gulps from the water bottle. He seemed dazed, but it was a definite level up from what he'd been before.

Dean ducked and examined Sammy's leg. He clenched his jaw so as not to disturb whatever shell-shocked peace Sam was in right now but damned if he didn't want to curse up a storm right now.

All Sam's leg hair had been burned off, in its place deep carvings in a design Dean couldn't even begin to make out with so much scabbing and swollen skin marring it. All the cuts had needed stitches but instead they'd been reopened repeatedly. It was red, moist with pus, clearly infected.

Dean set Sam's leg down and felt his forehead. He glanced back at Mallory. "He needs antibiotics."

"He need a hospital?"

Dean got himself up into a kneel, put his hands on his knees and stared at his voracious brother chowing down on a fourth packet (if he'd kept count correctly) of pretzels. "No. No I can take him, I think."

Mallory scooted in and Dean let her. She was holding a huge white square of gauze the size of his hand. There were ugly brown lines glazed on it where she'd applied the antiseptic. Dean looked at her for a second. She looked up and understood what he needed.

"We're gonna bandage the injury so we can get him dressed. And then we're gonna get him out of this cage and then we're gonna move him out of this house."

Dean's eyes watered and he nodded. She gave him the medical tape.

"Okay, okay, okay," Dean muttered to himself, getting into position. "Sammy, you ready?"

"Yeah."

Dean pressed the bandage gently along Sam's flayed flesh and Sam only whimpered once, breathed heavily through the rest of it as Dean taped. Dean knew it meant his pain tolerance had heightened. The heavy weight of that knowledge settled sick in his stomach. It would never go away. "So good, good job Sammy, so brave, you got this," Dean babbled, not paying attention to what he was even saying anymore.

The instant he was done, Mallory handed him Sam's black cotton sweatpants he'd brought and he helped Sam into them. Next was a plain white t-shirt. Sam moaned and reached for Dean a couple times. He'd fall against his chest for a break to catch his breath and Dean would hold him through it, rub his back, tell him he smelled awful.

They scooted Sam out of the cage, taking care not to jostle him. Dean felt lighter as they crossed the threshold, the repulsive air of a torture dungeon still somehow fresher now they were out of that godforsaken cage.

"Gonna have this thing melted down," Dean gruffed.

He got under Sam's arm, Mallory under the other, and together they counted to ten to lift Sam up so he could walk.

Sam groaned and weakly placed his feet flat on the floor, a valiant attempt to take some of his weight but they were lifting him too fast.

Mallory and Dean were softly congratulating him as he rose almost to full height. He gave them a strained smile before closing his eyes and passing out.

Dean's alarmed shouts for Sam to wake up again mingled with Mallory's yells for Gerald as they both struggled to give Sam a controlled fall.

Gerald pounded down the stairs and stopped at the tableau before him. Mallory out of breath and stressed as she refastened her pony tail with hands trembling with adrenaline. Dean hovered over his brother solicitously. The kid was clothed now which was a plus for Gerald, yet unconscious, a new minus.

"We need some muscle, sugar," Mallory explained. "Sam passed out."

Gerald came around and crouched down on Sam's other side across from Dean. "Well now I'm really happy you put clothes on the kid," he joked good-naturedly. Dean huffed. Gerald looked down. "So this is your little brother, huh?"

"Yep." Dean's chin quivered. He brushed Sam's hair off his face.

Gerald patted his back a few times. "C'mon, get it together."

Dean nodded, rubbed his face. "Right, okay, uh. We gotta do a two-person carry because he's injured. Back of his right thigh is fucked up."

"Got it."

Gerald got Sam's broad shoulders, Dean his brother's long legs, and together they tromped up the stairs.

"Should burn the whole house down," Gerald muttered as they hit the landing. Mallory followed up. She opened the emergency blanket and let it fall over Sam as Dean and Gerald carried him through the house. There were no bodies, no heads, only the blood stains in the grooved, pockmarked floorboards stood testament to the righteous slaughter carried out less than an hour ago.

"I couldn't agree more," Dean said as he watched Gerald fold into the backseat of the Impala, carrying Sam in with him. The emergency blanket crinkled and fell to the ground. As soon as Sam's butt cleared the seat, Dean set his feet down. He took Sam's shoulders and let Gerald get out through the other side.

"Wait," Sam whispered. Dean froze and looked down.

"Sam? Sammy? You with us?"

Sam's eyes rolled under his lids. He swallowed and nodded. "Wait."

"For what?"

"To burn it. I wanna..." Sam wheezed and coughed. "be there. For it."

A rush of relief slipped down Dean's spine and spread out, warming him.

"Damn straight, little brother. You'll throw the first match."

Sam chuckled thickly. "Yeah." His head fell onto Dean's shoulder, passed out again. Dean kept his arm around Sam even when he noticed the kid was drooling on him.

They were gonna be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marking this as complete again but hey who knows I might tack on another chapter - that branding is a mystery that might be worth exploring 👀😆
> 
> Also it was just brought to my attention that this fic is very similar in premise to K Hanna Korossy's "Winning Hand" so everybody if you like this fic , you might really dig K's too! [Link to their fic on FFnet](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7053035/1/Winning-Hand)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/kudos/reblog/vote/give to charity on me behalf (hahah) if you can spare the time
> 
> xoxo ~ Alex

**Author's Note:**

> 10/21/2020 my amazing friend and hero MidnightSilver was inspired by this fic and drew such a harrowing evocative piece of art. Oh my heart. I can't handle it. I'm so emotional 😂😭😭😭
> 
> Link to silver's [censored tumblr post](https://midnightsilver.tumblr.com/post/632622255414902785), and the full NSFW (nonsexual nudity) piece on pillowfort [here.](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1818323)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art Post inspired by In This House written by FogsRollingIn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140041) by [TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen/pseuds/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen)




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